All Things Writing – gosolowithamy

Flash Lit #2 Then and Again

By admin on October 6, 2022February 6, 2023

Flash Lit #2 Then and Again

I was in one of my work fugues at a coffee shop, unsuccessfully imitating a serious writer when someone called my name. I gasped.

“Gary? Good god, it IS you! What the…how did…why are you…” I probably could’ve continued, but I just stood clumsily and threw my arms around this ghost from my past.

The embrace felt way too familiar and comfortable, or at least I knew that I should think that. Too comfortable for my own good, more like it. Still, he smelled the same—clean and woodsy—and his shoulders were still strong and straight. I saw the grey strands playing hide-and-seek through his thick black hair, and of course it was perfect.

He spoke softly through my hair and said, “I wasn’t sure you’d be here. It seemed too easy, but I hoped…” Then he pulled me even tighter and added, “God, you smell good, Kate.”

We realized at the same time how long we’d been embracing and awkwardly took our seats. Sliding back onto the booth bench and closing my laptop, I looked up to find him leaning back in his chair, one arm slung around the back of it, and two eyes boring undeniable truth into mine.

“You can’t be that surprised, Katy. You knew I’d find you…eventually.” There it was, that smile. THE smile that had seduced me the first time our eyes first met at a fraternity party so many years ago. Those eyes and that smile spoke of smoky and dangerous things then, and my body was reacting to them now forty years later the same way.

It was just so easy to give him ‘eyes’ back and say, “For a long time I hoped you would. And then life kinda happened, you know?” The slight clickety-clack of my neighbor’s typing suddenly sounded like dishes falling from a server’s tray. He leaned forward.

“Look, Kate. I know it’s been a helluva long time. More than twenty years, right? I remember seeing you and your husband at the college reunion. That’s when I knew we weren’t finished.”

“C’mon, Gary. You were happily married and so was I. Don’t….”

“I was married, Kate, but hadn’t been happy for years. And when you looked at me the way you did, I just knew. Not that you weren’t happy, but that something wasn’t over with us.”

I felt anger. Shame? Understanding? “Michael died four years ago.” I looked down at my hands resting primly on my laptop.

Then Gary’s hands were squeezing. “I know and I’m truly sorry. Carol told me last week when I called her to get help finding you. And…Hell, Katy. I’ve been divorced for almost fifteen years, wondering if you ever thought of me. If you ever still…”

It was different this time when I looked into his eyes. They were shimmering with tears and his face was blotchy with emotion. No seduction now. Just love.

I squeezed his hands then and let my tears fall, daring to love him back. Again.

The Bad Workman–Flash Lit #6

By admin on October 24, 2021October 24, 2021

“Oh, don’t mind me..I’ll stay out of your way, but I can’t miss this Warriors game!”

Lewis adjusted his cap with his company’s logo, L & Sons Painters, on the bill and looked at his client sitting crosslegged on the sofa, munching popcorn and drinking a beer. He tried to think of something clever to say, but only came up with, “No problem, Ms Franklin. It’s just the door frames and baseboards, so if you don’t mind the smell I don’t mind the view…uh, I mean, I don’t mind that you’re here.”

Carolyn stopped munching and took another look at this painter. ‘The view’, eh? Mr. Hot Painter, are you referring to my legs? You’re certainly measuring them. Of course, she didn’t say that, but did smile and said, “No problem…uh…I’m sorry, I know you must’ve told me your name, but I’ve been watching Steph’s last crazy three pointer and I missed it. And please call me Carolyn—‘Ms Franklin’ makes me feel as though I’m still a teacher.”

Lewis grinned back and at the same time warned himself to stop staring at this knockout woman while working. And she WAS a knockout—-salt and pepper hair, big green eyes, a killer smile and…those legs! He wondered if she was married. He hadn’t seen any signs of a male occupant. Whatever, Lewis, stay focused on the job. You’re not here to get a date.

“Sure,….Carolyn. I’m Lewis. I’m the ‘L’ in the L&Sons Painters’ name.” Just then Thompson dunked over LeBron and the crowd noise was deafening. Carolyn raised her hands and spilled popcorn.

“Holy crap, did you see that? I’m so glad Klay is back. The Splash Brothers reunited!” She stuffed another handful of popcorn in her mouth and took a big swig of beer, rivaling any of his buddies gulping during poker games.

But his buddies didn’t have legs like that or a mouth like hers.

“Yeah, he’s almost as awesome as Curry, but I’ll remain a Curry fanatic forever.” Lewis thought she probably didn’t hear him, and he turned to continue carefully covering the fuchsia color around the door with white.

The sudden silence made him turn back around to find her staring at him with her mouth hanging open. “What? You’re a Warriors fan? And you’re WORKING during a game? Put that brush down right now and get over here, Lewis! I rarely have anyone to watch the games with, so I now proclaim that you’ve finished the job for today.” And then she winked at him.

It only took a few seconds for the angel and devil on his shoulders to fight it out. “You got it, Carolyn, if you’re sure you’re okay with me not finishing the job today.”

She laughed and stood up.

“Sure, Lewis.” He followed those legs as she uncrossed them and started walking to the kitchen. “I’ll get you a beer, too, just to complete the ‘bad workman’ review I’ll be writing.”

Many Hands–Oct ’21 Flash Lit #5

By admin on October 18, 2021October 24, 2021

The long hand was racing; there was no other explanation for the amount of time it was taking me to fall asleep. Over an hour now. I thought I’d figured it out and had exercised my ass off during the day: two long walks, weights and stretches in between a full day’s work from home. I barely sat down all day and I was exhausted when I finally got into bed at eleven pm.

So why can’t I go to sleep, damn it?

As usual my brain was not helping: neurons were firing like crazy with pictures of my boss Tara looking exasperated on Zoom at my reporting of the lack of progress on the Anderson file. COVID had affected supply chain and communication, making international group projects a handful. Tara knew that, so I’d tried not to take her loud voice and wild hand gestures personally.

I closed my eyes to stop watching the damned clock and tried to think of something soothing instead of irritating. Ah…the massage Vic gave me after dinner. His strong hands had worked miracles on my arms and shoulders in the few minutes he had before leaving for his shift at the hospital. With a quick kiss on the top of my head, he was gone too soon.

I’d read somewhere that it isn’t a good idea to do exercises right before going to bed, so I cleaned up after dinner and did some slow stretches instead. I groaned and moaned as overworked body parts objected to even that movement, and soon Griffon was meowing alongside me. Maybe my sounds were cat sounds? “Hey, buddy. You giving me a hand here or simply being a cat?” He brushed his fluff against my face as I leaned over to touch my toes and then left as abruptly as he’d arrived. Cats.

I could smell the day’s efforts so decided a hot bubble bath would be just the thing to ease me into deep slumber. Ahhh… I swirled my hands through the water and watched the bubbles follow their path, feeling the shifting temperature of the water with their movements. I began to massage my sore thighs with my own hands. Giving yourself a massage isn’t as effective, though, is it? I sighed and slipped further into the water. Maybe I’d just sleep in the tub.

Tomorrow’s headlines: “Local lawyer found smiling and dead in her tub.” Ha! I made my way to bed. I’d bought this expensive bed because I wanted to believe all the promises of “the best night’s sleep you’ll ever have”. So far false advertising ruled.

My eyes had begun watching the big hand on the clock again. Only five hours before I had to get up and start over again. I focused on the second hand instead and began counting..nine, eight, seven…drowsy…six…ooh…sleepy…yay…deserve a hand for perseverance…Griffin on my legs, his cat hands kneading calf muscles….mmmm…g’night….

A Stitch in Time-Oct ’21 Flash Lit #3

By admin on October 18, 2021October 24, 20212 Comments

Ginny was laughing her butt off.

I grabbed my tattered blanket even closer to me and scowled at her. “Shut up. I’m not hurting you. Neither is this blanket, so…” A louder howl.

It was useless to talk to her when she got so happily derisive. At times like this I felt I’d made a big mistake moving in with my older sister in her new apartment. Hell, I wish I had enough money to get my own place, but I don’t. Neither does she, really. So here we are.

“Oh, c’mon Ali, you’re 22 fucking years old and you still have a ‘blankie’??? Does Joey know you cuddle with a ratty piece of cloth when you’re not cuddling with him?” Ginny walked into the kitchen, shaking her head and still chuckling. I, like the mature adult I am, stuck my tongue out at the back of her head.

My fingers were troubling the corner of the flannel square, a habit I’d had since it WAS appropriate to carry around something that makes you feel safe, secure, and loved. I still remember the trauma of separation when I finally left the bubble of all those good feelings with my Grammy at home and started going to school. Grammy promised me she’d take care of it until I came home, and she never broke promises.

I went into my room, curled up against the pillows, and held the blanket close while my fingers rubbed the satiny edging that Grammy had made for me. Mom told me I’d been a fussy baby and toddler, and after many failed attempts to calm me, Grammy had cut up a blanket from my crib into squares that would be easy to carry with me everywhere. But the plain pieces didn’t do the trick. Grammy got the idea to add the soft borders, and as soon as I touched them, my fingers began their busy work and I became peaceful.

Over the years I’d worn three of the squares to threads and holes. Childhood, puberty, adolescence, my parents’ divorce—all the things that had ended my world at the time—had started my fingers working again until this poor remnant was all I had left to deal with Joey’s words, “I don’t love you anymore.”

My tears fell onto the beloved blanket, and my fingers started to tingle from constant stroking on the satin. I rewound my relationship with Joey, trying to figure out just when things had broken. It was a useless exercise, I knew; there was no other woman to point to, no wrong move from Joey to blame. It was the worst kind of reason—he just stopped loving me.

Settling down into bed, I cried my heart out into the pitiful cloth. I knew I’d get over Joey, just as I knew I’d survive when the blanket finally wore out. For now though I could still feel the love that Grammy had stitched into this lifeline, and once again let it calm me.

October Flash Lit #1 — If the Shoe Fits

By admin on October 3, 2021October 17, 2021

“Try ‘em on!”

Luke wouldn’t shut up about them, and he was driving Sally nuts. She’d put the damn things on when she felt like it.

Giving her a sleazy look, Luke held them out to her. “I wanna see you wearing these sexy things.” The next second he was an excitable boy again. “Wait! Let me put them on you, Sal. Like Cinderella. I can be your Prince Charming.” Camo started barking.

Sally had enough and with her hands over her ears to muffle the barking and stupid talk, she headed for a hot bath. It had been a long, shitty day at work. That’s why she’d finally bought the red stilettos at Maxim’s today instead of simply drooling over them in the window. Her day sucked and she would have those shoes, damn it!

Stilettos! Where the hell did she think she’d wear them? Luke wasn’t a tux or even a suit guy, so unless she wanted to wear them on movie night or tennis Saturdays…What was I thinking? All that money….

As she slipped down under lavender scented bubbles, she tried to let stress drift away, but her mind wouldn’t cooperate. She wished Luke was more perceptive about her mood, but he always wanted to laugh things off and find distractions to cheer her up. She loved him, but sometimes he infuriated her.

Angry that she was wasting the bath and bubbles nitpicking about Luke’s inability to read her mind, she sighed and let herself submerge completely. The music in the living room was only bass rumbles now, and she was surrounded by darkness and warmth. Her body felt weightless and her mind began to follow. She smiled. Who was she kidding? Luke was perfect. They were perfect.

“Sally! Look!”

With a gasp, she inhaled lavender water and coughed violently. Luke’s nervous voice reached her. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking stupid.”

Finally Sally could breathe again and she tried to slow her heartbeat. She wanted to scream at him, but instead she squeezed her eyes shut and took a big breath. That WAS stupid, Luke. Can’t you see I need…?”

When she opened her eyes, though, she was glad she hadn’t said that aloud. Camo was wearing her new shoes—or rather, her shoes were dangling off of Camo’s rear paws as Luke held him. Suddenly Camo kicked and sent one red stiletto into the sudsy water.

At first dollar signs rolled in front of her like a slot machine window, but then laughter rolled inside her. The look on Luke’s face! He put a squirming Camo down and picked up the other shoe. “I’m such a… I thought I’d make you laugh. You seemed so stressed. And…I’m a fucking idiot.”

But Sally raised a dripping foot displaying one ruined red stiletto. “Give me that other shoe, Prince Charming, get naked, and join me. I want you to make sure they really fit. I’m sure they do, even though they’re not perfect.”